Sanctuary
by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, but the wizarding public couldn’t handle a vampire as their saviour. After the war, an outcast Harry discovers Sanctuary, and the millennia old vampire that is its keeper. AU, seventh year. HBP compliant. WIP. ON HOLD
1. Prelogue

**Title: Sanctuary**

**Author: TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel**

**Pairings: None at present**

**Story Summary: Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, but the wizarding public couldn't handle a vampire as their saviour. After the war, an outcast Harry discovers Sanctuary, and the millennia-old vampire that is its keeper. A part of the magical world that Harry never suspected existed is opened to him, and Harry takes the path towards a new Destiny.**

**Setting: HBP-compliant. AU. Seventh year.**

**Author notes: **

_I owe influence to the "Apprentice Potter" series by Draco664, and have drawn upon the magical history invented in "Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." by Aaran St Vines, the 'definitive history of the beginning of magic' as one reviewer put it._

_The conversion rate used here is roughly I galleon 5 pounds. _

_Reviewers, I ask you: should this story be eventual Harry/Hermione, or eventual Harry/Luna? I don't promise to go by the most votes, but I will take them into consideration._

_Oh yeah, and I love writing dialogue for Snarky!Fanon!Snape. It's so much fun!_

_I hate flashbacks, but this seemed the easiest way to begin._

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**SANCTUARY**

**PROLOGUE**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_The Moving Finger writes; and having writ,_

_Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit_

_Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,_

_Nor all your tears wash out a Word of it._

_"The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam," Edward Fitzgerald_

**oo o0o oo**

_**(flashback)**_

_Harry was walking back to Privet Drive a short while after sunset when he was abruptly seized and something stabbed him in the neck. Harry flailed frantically, but his attacker held him tight as the blood was sucked from his veins._

_Suddenly the person let him go, choking. Harry spun dizzily to see the man fall t ohis knees, eyes wide and strangled gargling noises coming from him, before he unexpectedly burst into flame. _

_As the ground rushed up to meet him, Harry's last thought was, 'hah, didn't expect basilisk venom and phoenix tears in my veins, did you?' _

_**(end flashback)**_

**oo o0o oo**

_**(flashback)**_

_Smiling cruelly, Voldemort cast the spell to disperse Harry's glamour._

_The battlefield grew silent as one by one the combatants noticed Harry's pale skin, rage-red eyes and the fangs currently bared in an angry snarl at the laughing Dark Lord._

"_Now they all know the truth, Harry!" he cried, triumphant. "Do you really think that you'll be accepted now that the world knows what you are? Look at them, Harry!"_

_Harry didn't need to look. The growing scent of horror floated on the air. He kept his eyes on Voldemort._

"_Now everyone knows that their precious Boy-Who-Lived is a _vampire!_"_

"_Then there's no reason for me to hold back," Harry said quietly, and in a blur of vampiric reflexes attacked for the last time._

_Afterwards Harry turned and slowly gazed over the assembled faces. Aurors and Order members, hostile and suspicious; Ron, angry and afraid. Hermione – and his heart clenched painfully – looking at him in frightened horror. McGonagall, walking forward, her face stern._

"_Mr Potter," she said stiffly. Harry could smell the incredulity and agitation that belied her composed exterior. "We are all grateful for the service you have done us, but I am afraid that the Ministry forbids vampires to attend Hogwarts."_

"_Such a convenient excuse, professor," Harry said sourly. "Very well. For the record, my parents and Dumbledore would be ashamed of you."_

_She recoiled as if struck, but Harry was already walking back to the castle to collect his things. He left that evening, the scent of angry rejection in his nostrils and the faces of all those he had believed to be his friends floating in his mind._

_**(end flashback)**_

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	2. Sanctuary's Keeper

**Title: Sanctuary**

**Author: TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel**

**Pairings: None at present**

**Story Summary: Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, but the wizarding public couldn't handle a vampire as their saviour. After the war, an outcast Harry discovers Sanctuary, and the millennia-old vampire that is its keeper. A part of the magical world that Harry never suspected existed is opened to him, and Harry takes the path towards a new Destiny.**

**Setting: HBP-compliant. AU. Seventh year.**

**Author notes: **

_The conversion rate used here is roughly I galleon 5 pounds. _

_Reviewers, I ask you: should this story be eventual Harry/Hermione, or eventual Harry/Luna? I don't promise to go by the most votes, but I will take them into consideration._

_There's a fair bit of the Lady in this, but this is the chapter introducing her, so…_

_Later chapters should focus more on Harry's activities._

_And the person who wanted Snape in this, you're in luck, Snape is in it._

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**SANCTUARY**

**CHAPTER ONE**

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"_Great indebtedness does not make men grateful, but vengeful; and if a little charity is not forgotten, it turns into a gnawing worm."_

_Friedrich Nietzsche_

**oo o0o oo**

Harry walked aimlessly in the twilight, as he had every evening for a month now. His shrunken trunk was in the pocket of his muggle jeans, along with his wand. He was allowed to do magic, at least; the first time the Minister had attempted to arrest him for using his wand, Harry had coolly assured him that while being expelled he could tolerate, if his right to magic was confiscated he would tear out the throats of those responsible. They had come to a compromise; Harry could do magic if he avoided the wizarding world.

"Believe me, Minister," Harry said coldly as he left, "I have no desire to remain in contact with the world in which I have known only betrayal and pain since I entered."

-

After a month of solitude however, Harry had to admit that he wasn't sure about that anymore. Oh, if he was honest with himself, he'd never belonged in the wizarding world; but all the same it had been home to him. Now he had nowhere to live, no friends or acquaintances, he really appreciated what Hogwarts and the wizarding world had meant to him.

So deep in thought was Harry that he didn't notice the three muggles until a bullet whistled past his ear.

Harry whirled to a shout of "stay still, bloodsucker!" and a second bullet. He ran. Unfortunately, the thumping squeak of sneakers on pavement wasn't far behind him.

At Hogwarts, Harry had been assured that muggle vampire hunters no longer existed. Sadly, Harry had discovered that the wizards had their facts wrong yet again. For two days now a group of muggles had been trying to stake him, and whenever he thought he'd lost them they turned up again, like human bloodhounds.

As he ran, Harry noticed a small church up ahead. Completely forgetting that as a vampire religion was now anathema to him, Harry ran up the steps and through the door.

The heads of disapproving middle-aged women turned to frown at him.

"Yes Mrs Markham, I'm sure your son would be a wonderful candidate for a part in the Easter play," the priest agreed, turning.

Harry managed to blush red despite his vampirism. But the priest merely eyed him thoughtfully before pointing at a small door near the back of the church.

"Through there and at the end of the hallway, dear boy," he said mildly, before resuming his conversation with the impatient Mrs Markham.

Considerably confused, Harry followed the directions, and opened a door into a small room that appeared to be a study, The young woman at the writing desk ignored him, finishing her work before putting her pen down and looking up.

She was tall and slim, with long blonde hair, and dressed in a black gown that would have gone unnoticed among the outmoded fashions of the wizarding world. What held Harry's attention, however, were her eyes. They were black and fathomless, and where most eyes showed their owner's emotions to some degree, these eyes held only Harry's reflection like a pair of polished black mirrors. There was no sense of a person lurking behind those eyes. Harry found it immensely unnerving.

-

"Good evening," said the woman. Her voice was soft yet firm. "How may I assist you?"

"I –" Harry didn't mean to say what came out next. He blurted, "you're really old, aren't you?"

She seemed oblivious to Harry's emotions as she replied quite coolly,

"To most people, yes. One thousand and three, to be exact. How may I help you?"

Harry hesitated, beyond confused again.

"I was being chased by vampire hunters," he said slowly. "This is a _church._ How can I be in here?"  
She was writing again, eyes on her work as she answered.

"To the muggles, this building is a church. To the select few that know the truth, it is Sanctuary, a haven for the dark and outcast who are nonetheless pure of heart. The wards sensed your plight and called to you which is why you entered, although you did not know what this building was."

This time when she put down her pen she rose and came around the desk, smiling.

"I am the Lady Emerald Green, and the Keeper of Sanctuary," she told him, "and you are welcome to stay here as long as you like."

Her tone was warm and friendly, but in her eyes his image was reflected back at him.

"Thanks," Harry said. Somehow he couldn't find the words for what he wanted to say, so he said something else instead.

"Why don't your eyes show anything?"

Lady Emerald stilled, and for a moment Harry was afraid he had offended her, but then she turned to the cupboard doors and opened them, beckoning to him. Somehow Harry wasn't really surprised to see that the doors concealed a staircase that headed down into darkness.

"As a vampire grows older, they no longer care about the things they once did," Lady Emarald called back as Harry obediently followed her down the stairs. "Life becomes almost boring. Emotions tend to be the most superficial kind only. As this happens the eyes turn black and reflective. If you meet a vampire with eyes like mine they are likely to be at least five hundred years old and usually fairly dangerous. Believe it or not my eyes were green as yours once."

She stopped in front of the first door in a hallway full of doors and opened it. It proved to be a small bedroom.

"You may spend the night here if you wish. Simply say 'light out'," and the room was plunged into darkness, "and 'light on to reverse it." The light reappeared. "Bathroom is the door directly opposite this one. Good evening."

She glided noiselessly down the hallway, leaving Harry to wonder what he'd stumbled into now.

**oo o0o oo**

Over the next week or so Harry got to know the Lady better. She allowed him to come and go as he wished and didn't seem to desire company, although she seemed perfectly happy to converse if he so wished. She was always quite polite and friendly, despite her eyes. Inwardly Harry shrugged and supposed that at a thousand nothing much would affect him, either.

-

The priest turned out to be named Father William Bundy, and he volunteered all the information that the Lady did not. From him Harry learned about the complex wards protecting the property, the fact that Sanctuary was a fully-functioning church (which meant that Harry had to be aware of mass times so as not to inadvertently disrupt the services) and about the world of magic outside wizarding society.

There were many types of magic, Harry learned, and only a portion were known to the wizards. There were enchanters for example, who did magic without either wand or incantation; there were earthwitches, whose magic fed directly from the earth itself, making them unpredictable wizards, and who always had a strong affinity with plants. (Harry rather suspected now that Neville had been an unidentified earthwitch. It certainly fit.) What wizards called metamorphmagic were shapeshifters to everyone else, and they could be magical or muggle.

-

"But wizards tend to be so closed-minded and arrogant that they rarely find out about other forms of magic, or else dismiss them. Faith-based magic for example, is one of the strongest forms of magic there is. It's the kind the Lady uses most and the main thing protecting Sanctuary, yet the wizards are convinced it's week magic used only by the gullible and foolish. One of the ways the wizarding world was influenced by muggle-borns, the Lady says; when muggles turned to rationalism and secularism round about the nineteenth century it seeped into the wizarding world and faith-based magic was discarded." Father William snorted in disgust. "The wizarding world is full of fools."

"Well, I knew that," Harry agreed. "Doesn't this all seem odd to you, though? I mean wouldn't most priests be kinda… wary about a place like Sanctuary?"

The priest sighed.

"My father was an enchanter and my mother a witch." He wrinkled his nose wryly. "Not a happy marriage, that one. My father was broadminded and egalitarian, while my mother was filled with wizarding arrogance and the pride of the purebloods. She walked out when I was six. My father shot himself."

He made a face.

"Not a thing to do with magic did I have after that. I grew up with two perfectly normal muggle aunts, went to a muggle school, and eventually entered the priesthood." He laughed. "Which is when the Lady appeared out of nowhere stating that with my background she felt that I would be appropriate for the position of parish priest going at Southcoate. I agreed cautiously; next day my superior's telling me I've been posted as Southcoate parish priest. And I've been here ever since."

He laughed again.

"What did you mean when you said that Lady Emerald uses faith-based magic most?" Harry asked curiously.

Father William turned serious.

"Her dad was a powerful wizard back in the days when they were less ignorant," he told Harry. "Wizarding Europe's Golden Age, it was. He was one of the biggest experts on faith-based magic around, and he taught her a lot of it. The rest she picked up working for the Vatican in the 12th century."

Harry choked.

"But she's a _vampire!_" he protested. Father William nodded gravely.

"Mmm, between you and me, the Vatican was a lot more powerful and knowledgeable back then. Sure, the Lady was a vamp, but she was pure of heart and they had tests for that kind of thing then. So they hired her to protect the Vatican and keep darkness from Rome. Then there was a change in power round about the time of the Italian Inquisition, and the Lady found it best to get out of there very quickly." He smiled faintly. "She was involved in magical politics for a while after that, turned vampire society completely on its head, then decided to build Sanctuary. She's been here ever since. The wizarding world knows a little about her – she ventures into it occasionally – but for the most part she lives a fairly quiet life."

Harry sat, blinking, as he absorbed this condensed but colourful history.

"Wow," he said at last. Father William smiled in agreement.

"Yep."

**oo o0o oo**

Harry stuck his head into Lady Emerald's office.

"Good," she said without looking up, "come here."

"That's creepy, you know," Harry commented as he walked over.

"I know," she said lightly. "Stand still."

She was holding a thin gold chain. Suspended from it was what looked rather like a rounded vial, about five centimetres high and 2 centimetres in diameter, capped on both ends with gold. The vial glowed with soft white light.

For a moment Harry felt complete revulsion as she clasped it around his neck, but an instant later the feeling was gone. He blinked.

"What's this?" He squinted down at the vial.

The Lady smiled at him.

"It's called an earthlight," she answered. "A very complicated pierce of faith magic. To summarise, it will protect you from darkness and harm."

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say. "Thanks, I guess."

She smiled again, and for a moment flecks of green shone amongst the black. Harry blinked, and her eyes were the same as ever. He must have imagined it, he decided.

-

Harry was quite touched by the gift. When he showed it to Father William the man had been quite impressed.

"She must be right fond of you, lad," he'd said. "She rarely gives those out. In fact, the last one I saw her dispense was for myself."

Harry felt cheerful enough to go for a walk in the nearby park after that. While he sat on a park bench, rethinking his decision as he sat squinting in the sunlight, there was a loud "HOOT!" only a millisecond before a flurry of white feathers descended upon him.

Harry stared incredulously as the feathers settled down to regard him with sternly reproachful amber eyes.

"Hedwig?"

"HOOT!" confirmed the miffed owl. Harry's face split into a broad grin.

"How are you, girl?" he exclaimed. "I've missed you!"

Hedwig's gaze softened at this response from her wizard and she nipped his ear affectionately. She allowed Harry to scratch her head for a few minutes before holding out a led with a letter attached.

Considerably surprised, Harry removed it and opened it to see a sheet full of curly, faintly-uneven handwriting. Luna's.

-

_Dear Harry, _ the letter said,

_I'm glad you're traceable again. Your owl was very depressed that she couldn't find you. The Gryffindors tried to look after her but she attacked them all and decided to stay with me instead. I was glad to have her company and we had a nice time discussing how silly the wizarding world has become._

-

Harry turned to look at his owl.

"Dis you really have a discussion about the wizarding world?" he asked. Hedwig looked disapproving and startlingly like McGonagall. Harry kept reading.

-

_I just want you to know that I don't mind that you're a vampire. People have been very foolish, haven't they? No one listens to me though. If you ever need blood, Harry,, you can always come to me, you know. I don't care about that sort of thing._

_I thought you might want to know that that Weasley boy has been rather violent lately. He's been telling everyone you're evil. He always was a bit unkind, wasn't he? Hermione's been rather sad and hasn't said much about you. But Neville Longbottom says that you've always been his friend and that as long as you don't leap on him and suck out all his blood he'll stand by you. It's been irritating Weasley a fair bit, I think._

-

Harry snorted with laughter, able to picture Neville saying all that in that nervously defiant, stubborn way of his. It meant a lot to know that Luna and Neville were still his friends.

-

_Neville's arather nice boy, isn't he? I'll have to see if he's free some Hogsmeade weekend._

_Also, Professor Snape was cleared by the Ministry and came back to Hogwarts. He left and hour later however, I don't think he appreciated the way everyone treated you. Before he left he said that the wizarding world didn't deserve a noble, self-sacrificing idiot Gryffindor like you and called Professor Lupin a hypocritical mongrel with a denial complex and Professor McGonagall a catnip-addled furball with the mind of an imbecile. When Weasley yelled at him Snape just said he was a twerp without either talent or wit and without the looks to compensate._

_I hope you're enjoying yourself Harry, and don't forget that you still have friends._

_Love Luna_

-

Harry nearly cried with mirth as he read Luna's account of Snape's insults. His respect for the man grew however. For Snape, who hated him, to leave Hogwarts over his treatment was surprising indeed. Harry decided that when he wrote to Neville and Luna, there'd be a brief note for Snape as well.

**oo o0o oo**

A few days later he had received replies to all three letters. Luna's was another letter about the goings-on at Hogwarts, while Neville's shyly thanked Harry for his gratitude and assured Harry that they were still friends. Snape's was typically short.

-

_Potter,_

_While you may be an insufferable idiot of a Gryffindor with less sense than a flobberworm, you nonetheless did us all a great service, and anyone who refuses to acknowledge that is a moron who deserves nothing but contempt. I do not want your gratitude, although if you insist upon burdening me with it I would not object to knowing how you concealed the fact that you were a vampire for all that time._

_S. Snape_

-

Harry grinned at that letter but carefully stored it in his trunk. He seemed to have somehow earned the man's respect, and now that he'd seen everyone's true colors that meant a great deal to him. Ironic that Snape turned out to be the one with 'moral fibre' and all that. Smirking at Snape's last remark, he sent off a letter that was brief and to the point:

-

_Professor,_

_In reply to your question:_

_The world is full of imbeciles._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter._

-

Harry would never know that after reading that final letter, Severus Snape laughed for nearly a full minute, an event as uncommon as it was unexpected.

**oo o0o oo**

That weekend Harry was sent out to collect some potion ingredients from a small enchanter-run apothecary that Lady Emerald regularly bought from. While it catered to a few wizards, she admitted, it was nonetheless _not_ part of the wizarding world and so Harry would be fine.

When Harry entered, a small man was at the counter dealing with a middle-aged woman swathed in a sari and Indian prints. As Harry approached, a tall, black-clad figure stormed out from the back rooms.

"This is ridiculous, Marcus!" he raged. "I cannot possibly brew it on such short notice! I – Potter!"

Harry blinked in surprise.

"Hello, professor," he greeted the man mildly.

"What are you doing here?" Snape demanded. "You're not allowed contact with the wizarding world!"

"And I'm not," Harry pointed out. "This place is enchanter-run."

"Nonsense!" Snape snapped. The man behind him cleared his throat sheepishly.

"Actually, Severus, the boy is quite right," he admitted. While snape stared at him, je leaned over the counter to beam at Harry.

"What can I do for you, lad?" His smile was friendly.

Harry pulled out the list the Lady had given him.

"I'm here to collect some things for Lady Emerald," he said, handing it over.

The man's eyes widened respectfully, "The Lady, eh?" His eyes flitted rapidly over the list of items. "Yep, shouldn't be a problem. Severus!" he barked. "Draught of Night and Silvertouch, now!"

Snape spluttered.

"But those – are you mad –"

Marcus sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It's for Lady Emerald, man, if ever a woman understood potions it's her. Now will you collect those potions while I fetch the ingredients she needs?"

Grumbling, Snape disappeared out the back with Marcus. A moment later he reappeared with two small bottles, one filled with dark, murky blue, the other with pale silver. He placed them on the counter and glared at Harry. Quite unaffected, Harry smiled back, allowing his fangs to slow.

After a startled moment Snape scowled sourly at him.

Harry grinned.

"Incorrigible whelp," Snape muttered. "Did no one _really_ notice that you were on a liquid diet?"

Harry shook his head cheerfully.

"Nope. They all just assumed I was just brooding or something. When I wasn't eating much, it was because I was depressed. If I disappeared at odd hours of the night, I was trying to obtain solitude. When I avoided sunlight as much as possible, I was being angsty and – what was it? – emo. Pale skin? Well obviously I needed to get out more." Harry shook his head. "Personally I think that it clashed with the Golden Boy image and so they blocked it out. Self-delusion and all that."

Snape was watching him with an indecipherable expression. Before he could say anything, Marcus bustled out with a carefully-wrapped parcel.

"There you are, all the requested ingredients, each individually-wrapped," he told Harry. "I'll put it on the Lady's tab."

Harry nodded. As he was about to leave, a thought struck him.

"Just out of curiosity, what's the current value of basilisk venom?" he asked.

Marcus peered at him, a sudden gleam of interest in his eyes.

"I believe," he said carefully, "that in the wizarding world current market value is two thousand galleons per vial, while in the wider community it sells for roughly… oh, 10,000 pounds or so per quarter-gallon."

Harry gaped. He'd no idea that basilisk venom was so valuable. His eyes lit up with crafty light.

"Would you be willing to purchase some if it was obtained?" he offered. "At a discounted price, of course. Perhaps we could make some kind of trade?"

Marcus turned to Snape.

"Is he serious?" he demanded.

The potions master looked inscrutable.

"I believe so."

"I'd give my eyes for some," Marcus said frankly. "Get me some of that stuff and I'll make any trade you want. Where are you going to get it?"

Harry grinned.

"When I was twelve I slew a sixty-foot basilisk. The remains are still there and if my reading is correct, basilisk remains don't decompose much over time. The venom should be perfectly harvestable."

He left the apothecary, leaving Snape and Marcus staring in disbelief.

"A _basilisk?_ At _twelve?_"

"knowing some of Potter's past exploits, it is entirely within the realms of possibility. I told you he was one for reckless heroics."

"Reckless heroics my arse, Sev! That's the stuff legends are made of! How could a twelve year old child defeat a sixty-foot basilisk?"

"It's quite simple, Marcus: he's Harry Potter. Around him the impossible becomes merely improbable and sometimes, inevitable."

"Careful, Severus, for you that's practically gushing. He's really that lucky?"

"No, my friend. He is really that cursed."

**oo o0o oo**

Lady Emerald looked up as Harry exited the cupboard, clad in black boots, black trousers, a black shirt and a black cloak. A black satchel was just visible under it.

"Going somewhere?" she inquired softly. Harry grinned.

"I'm sneaking into Hogwarts, entering the Chamber of Secrets, and harvesting some basilisk parts."

"Hmm." She peered at him as though he were some kind of diverting novelty on display. "Enjoy yourself, and do not allow youself to be arrested."

"Thanks."

Harry exited the building, and Apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds.

Operation: Retrieval had begun.


End file.
